


The End

by Sugarcane_Moon



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Abandonment, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cults, Demons, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Occult, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Doomstar Requiem, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarcane_Moon/pseuds/Sugarcane_Moon
Summary: The end of Dethklok has arrived. With it, the end of the world.





	1. Chapter 1

_"They say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will God go down with it?” \- Patrick Stump_

It’d been ten years since Dethklok split. After everything that happened at Doomstar Requiem and with Murderface in a coma, they couldn’t keep themselves together. It wasn’t a bitter breakup, though, everyone seemed to be on the same page; it was time for a break. 

Skwisgaar was the first to leave Mordhaus. It was a rainy September morning when he walked out of his room, a bulging suitcase in one hand and a guitar in the other, and announced he was leaving for Sweden to teach master guitar lessons. No one tried to stop him, and this might’ve hurt Skiwsgaar’s ego a little, but he’d never show it. They said their farewells and Skiwsgaar disappeared out the door. 

Next went Pickles. He met a girl and decided to get married. This was unexpected, especially since it was  _ Pickles.  _ Toki was the only one to disprove,  _ “I didn’ts even thinks you likes the girls.” _ he’d said, but the wedding went on without a hitch. The day after Pickles left for the honeymoon and never came back. 

All that was left of the once fierce Dethklok was Nathan and Toki. Nathan often wondered why Toki stayed. He was young, and any band would be ecstatic to take the famed rhythm guitarist from Dethklok into their group. Toki would have it easier than the rest of them. He wasn’t old or hospitalized. In fact, Nathan would argue that Toki was in the prime of his life. 

But there he was, sitting across the table, munching on granola and fresh fruit. Nathan watched him. He’d seen Toki grow up. He’d watched him go from some small, nervous kid that showed up late to his audition and got hired by the skin of his teeth to, well, Toki. It amazed him that he’d stayed so long, depending on how they treated him all those years. What was the pull? What kept Toki here like glue?

“ _ Yous are all likes the brothers to me.”  _

That’s what Toki said after that day. Seeing him lying there, bloodied and sallow-skinned, it made Nathan want to tear Magnus in half. But then Toki said  _ that,  _ a summarization of everything they all felt but were too scared to say. They were  _ brothers.  _

And now they were all leaving. Nathan, too.

“Toki,” Nathan coughed, catching the attention of his breakfast partner. Toki looked up, his mustache granola stuck in his mustache. Nathan continued, “I, uh-- I need to talk to you.”

“Sures, what is ups?” Toki said between mouthfuls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Nathan just watched him. The fact that Toki seemed so  _ calm  _ was not helping. “Look, you remember Abigail, right?” Nathan said, and Toki nodded his head. “Ja, that’s yours girlfriends.” 

“Yeah, yeah. My girlfriend.” Nathan was nodding with Toki, like he was trying to also agree that Abigail  _ was  _ his girlfriend. Which she was, but that wasn’t the point. “And you, uh, you remember what happened with Pickles’ and his girlfriend? Y’know, how they got married and stuff?” 

Toki shriveled up his nose in disgust. The marriage had been a rocky one, with Toki objecting multiple times before, during, and after. It wasn’t until the bride’s father threatened to sue Toki for “disturbing the peace” that’d he’d finally calmed down. “Yeahs, I remembers.” Toki huffed, shoving another spoonful of that God-awful breakfast in his mouth, “The cakes was gross. It tasteds like dildos.”

Nathan nodded but didn’t say anything. It was quiet except for Toki’s chewing. Nathan knew he should say something, he  _ had  _ to say something, but how was he supposed to break it to the kid? Should he just come right out and say it? Should he try and explain? Should he--

“You twos are gettings the hitched, ja?” 

Nathan shot up to look at Toki, who was looking at his bowl. “Goods for yous,” Toki said, idly stirring his breakfast, “I knews you woulds. I saws yous packings last nights. I hopes you two are very happys togethers.”

“Toki, I--”

Toki raised a placating hand, shushing Nathan. He looked up from his breakfast for the first time that morning and smiled bitterly. “ I knows. Yous is sorry. You cans goes.” Nathan didn’t move. He just looked at Toki, unblinking, shocked and ashamed beyond words. Toki looked back at him. 

“Why’s are yous still heres?” 

Nathan stood up. That was all Toki had to say. 

He took his time getting his things together, packing away the pieces of his old life to start a new one. He walked by the empty, despondent rooms of the old members, and then Toki’s, which was still well-kept and lived-in. He walked to the exit before turning to look at Toki one last time. 

“I’m sorry.”

Nathan liked to think he was grown and past the ‘feelings are totally unmetal’ part of his life. But this tight, burning feeling in his chest and the lump in his throat was totally  _ un- _ metal. 

Toki smiled. “I knows.”

And so, the lead singer of Dethklok left. Toki watched the door shut behind him and then, staring from the window, his motorcycle drive off into the distance. 

Then, he  _ lost it.  _

He wrecked the dining room. He flipped the table and smashed the chairs, sending food and dishes flying into the air and smashing on the ground. He ripped up the furniture, punched the TV, hell, he even beat up a handful of klokateers. He sobbed violently through it all, screaming until his voice was hoarse and he could taste blood from his ruined throat. 

Toki lied down amongst his carnage. He stared up at the ceiling, remembering his band, his friends, his  _ brothers.  _

Toki cried.

~

**_“Breaking News: World-Renowned Death Metal Band Dethklok breaks up!”_ **

Violette was sitting in the rec-room fiddling with a guitar when the TV blew up with the announcement. She was a short, plump girl with unruly blonde hair and a small case of vitiligo. Being the lead singer of  _ Glitterbabies  _ meant she had to stay up to date with the world’s news, and today Dethklok was just that. 

She turned up the volume as the announcer explained that after the events at what was known as Doomstar Requiem and William Murderface falling into a coma, the band fell into a state of unrest. Skwisgaar Skiwigelf was the first to go after he started a business in teaching guitar in Sweden. Next was Pickles The Drummer, who married  _ America’s Top Model _ Irene Desjardins and left to live in France. Lastly was Nathan Explosion, who married his longtime girlfriend and producer Abigail Remeltindtdrinc. Apparently, the only one left was Toki Wartooth, who refused to comment. 

_ ‘Huh.’  _ Thought Violette, watching as the announcer explained the rising number of suicide rates caused by this break-up. She always knew it would happen. All empires must fall at some point or another. But never like  _ this,  _ never in such a simple way. 

Distracted by her thoughts, Violette didn’t hear her band walk in. Tonya was the first to catch her attention by jumping onto the couch next to her, causing Violette to yelp and nearly fall off. 

“Hey, no need for the freaking out! Only us.” Tonya laughed in her heavy Russian accent, lying her head on Violette’s lap. The rest of the band joined, piling on top of one another like cats. “You scared me,” Violette huffed, “Just jumping in on me like that, what if I had a knife or something, huh?”

Tonya snickered. “But didn’t, so vhy vorry?” She said as she took her guitar from Violette’s hands, idly strumming without a beat. Violette sighed deeply, she could feel a headache coming on. “What do you guys want anyway?”

“Boss called ‘ya,” came Honey, who sat on the far end of the couch. Violette furrowed her brows. “ _ Called _ me? He hasn’t called on me in what, like, a month?” 

“Weird for us too.” Kathleen mumbled, sprawled between Honey and Tonya like a lounging cat, playing on her gaming console without care. Violette sighed and stood up, pushing Tonya’s head off her lap and onto the floor with a  _ thud. _

“ _ Privet!  _ A little varning next time!”

“Tonya, darlin’, I thought ‘ya said y’all Russians were durable? Why you complain’?”

As the band erupted into another argument at Honey’s blatant prejudice, Violette left to see the boss. This was another one of her duties as lead singer. He never called on the others, never batted an eye when they asked to speak with him through the microphone he had installed outside his office. It was only  _ her.  _

To some, that was a privilege. To Violette, it was her burden. 

She knocked gently on the office door. A gruff voice told her to come in, and once she did the door slammed shut behind her. 

“Violette.” The Boss said, sitting at his long, impending desk with his hands folded. He motioned his head for her to sit. “Come in. We have much to discuss.”

Violette walked carefully to her seat, making sure to keep her bubbling anxiety off her face. She sat down, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. Sweat was beading on the back of her neck. No matter how many times she did this, she was always nervous. 

“The girls said you called for me.”

“That I did.”

Silence. The Boss shuffled some papers on his desk. 

“You’ve heard the news about Dethklok.”  
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Violette nodded her head. “Yes, I have.”

“Then you know about Toki Wartooth.”

Toki Wartooth. The last remainder of an era that would change the world forever. “A little, yes.”

The Boss hummed. Whether that was good or bad, Violette couldn’t tell. He tapped his pen on the table, that tapping becoming the only sound in the room. 

“You’re going to recruit him.”

Violette shot up immediately. She stared at The Boss, wide-eyed. “I’m going to  _ what?” _

“I  _ said  _ you’re going to recruit him.” The Boss sneered. In the darkness, Violette could see his beady, green eyes staring at her. Violette fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze. “You’ll go to Toki Wartooth, you’ll offer him a spot as  **lead** guitarist- not  _ rhythm,  _ lead. If Tonya has a problem with that, send her to me.”

“But boss, I-”

The Boss raised his hand, and Violette was immediately silenced. In the dark, he smiled. “You may go now, Violette. Tell the others.”

Violette stood up from her seat. She bowed, thanked The Boss for having her, and left without another word.

It was until she was back in the safety of the dog-pile of her band that she unclenched her fists, her palms were covered in small, crescent-shaped cuts. 


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Violette stayed home while the girls went to party. They’d _insisted_ she come; _“If ‘ya stay here all the time, y’all’ll shrivel up like a toad in the sun!”_ Honey had said, but Violette refused. There was work to be done, _important_ work, and if The Boss found out she threw her duties to the wind-- God have mercy on her. 

Violette was actually hoping God would have mercy right now as she stared at her phone. This one little call held so much power it was dizzying; it could mark the end or the beginning, and that all depended on a simple yes or no. Just the thought was enough to make her heart start pounding against her chest. 

Despite herself, Violette typed in the number The Boss sent her after their meeting. It rang a few times, and Violette hoped they wouldn’t pick up, but with a _click,_ a voice came from the other end; 

_“Ja?”_

Violette froze and dug her nails into her thighs. She hadn’t expected to get this far-- what was she supposed to do?

“ _Hellos? Anyones there?”_

Suddenly, she remembered the paper The Boss had told her to read from if someone were to pick up. She fumbled to get it out of her pocket, almost dropping the phone in the process, and unraveled it. Violette took a deep breath as she recited the words;

“May I speak to Toki Wartooth?”

_“Ja. This is hims.”_

Okay, so far, so good. 

“I’m Violette Bennett, lead singer of _The Glitterbabies_.” There wasn’t any sound on the other end, so she kept talking; “I heard your band recently broke-up.”

_“Yeahs. ‘Cause they ams a bunch of dildos.”_

Violette snickered. _Dildos_ was not a word she’d use as an insult, but oh well. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that. Are you, perhaps, looking for work?”

Violette drummed her fingers against her thigh in anticipation as she waited for an answer. The man on the other end was quiet, and whether that good or bad she couldn’t tell. 

“Mr. Wartooth?”

_“Ja. I ams heres.”_

Silence again. Then, an answer;

_“Thanks yous for the offers, but ams not interesteds.”_

And then he hung up, just like that. Violette sat there on her bed, the phone still pressed to her ear. All those years of preparation, of work and sacrifice, tossed down the train with a simple _no._

_**“Fuck!”** _

~

If Mordhaus had been a gloomy place before, it was even worse now. In his fit, Toki demanded that all the window be painted black. No one could see in, and no one could see out. Then he wanted all the wolves to be released, he didn’t care _where_ he just wanted them **_gone,_ ** and lastly, he took all his bandmember’s remaining possessions and tossed them in the fireplace. 

Most of the Klokateers had left. Toki didn’t know where they went, he just knew that he’d gotten at least a hundred letters of resignation in the last hour alone. Typical, really; the help always wants to leave when the going gets tough. 

Toki threw back another shot of vodka, hissing as it burned all the way down his throat and into his belly. He never understood how Pickles could drink this stuff all day, but it did make him feel better. Just a little. 

_Brring! Brring!_

The sound of his Dethphone sent Toki into a panic, throwing his drink into the air and having him scramble to find the damned thing. Once he uncovered it from the piles of blankets he’d piled on the couch, he answered;

“Ja?”

The other end was quiet. Toki furrowed his brows. 

“Hellos? Anyones there?”

There was some rustling. The sound of someone muttering to themselves. Then a soft, female voice; 

“ _May I speak to Toki Wartooth?”_

He rolled his eyes. Another groupie who’d found his phone number on the internet, great. 

“Ja, this is hims.”

_“I’m Violette Bennett, lead singer of The Glitterbabies. I heard your band recently broke-up.”_

So not a groupie, but a recruitment offer. A vulture coming to pick the remains off Dethklok’s corpse. 

“Yeahs. ‘Cause they ams a bunch of dildos.”

_“I’m very sorry to hear that. Are you, perhaps, looking for work?”_

Toki paused. He didn’t _technically_ need work, did he? He was a multi-millionaire. He could take his money and fuck off to some foreign country like Pickles, or start-up his own business like Skwisgaar. He didn’t have to be a star anymore. 

It also occurred to him that everyone might come back. Toki would have to stay at Mordhaus so he could say _“I tolds yous so”._

_“Mr. Wartooth?”_

“Ja. I ams heres.” 

He could see everyone’s faces when they came back to Mordhaus; so sad and apologetic that they left poor little Toki all alone. He could hear them apologizing and, for once, they actually _meant_ it. 

“Thanks yous for the offers, but ams not interesteds.”

And then he hung up. Toki threw his phone across the couch, letting it clatter to the floor. He wasn’t as weak as the others; he’d stay here in Mordhaus, in Dethklok, until they all came back. Because they would. They would have to come back. 

_But what if they don’t?_

Without thinking, Toki picked up the phone again and called the woman back. The phone rang a few times before she picked up, “ _Hello?”_

“This is Violettes Bennets, ja?”  
  
_“This is she. How can I help you, Mr. Wartooth?”_

Toki watched as the flames burned. He picked up a photo of the band he’d been carrying around with him and, with one last look, tossed it into the fire. 

“I wants to joins your bands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> https://wordsmith-enthusiast.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

If you’d told Nathan ten years ago he’d be living a domestic lifestyle with a white picket fence and a pretty wife, he would’ve laughed and punched you square in the face. But here he was now, sitting on the couch with a beer, watching  _ football  _ of all things. 

He never really understood the appeal of it before. It was just a bunch of big, sweaty guys beating each other up for a ball. Even when he played football he didn’t understand. But with how  _ mundane _ his life had become, it felt like the only exciting thing left. 

If his Dethklok-self could see him now, he’d laugh. That sent a twinge of  _ something  _ through Nathan’s chest, but he ignored it when Abigail came in. 

“Nathan, phone for you.” She stated plainly, clad in her bathrobe and bun. He wondered briefly if Abigail had done this to him, but pushed the thought away. “Uh, thanks.” Nathan muttered, taking the phone from her hands. Abigail sighed as she was accustomed to doing lately, “I’m going to take a bath. I’ll start dinner when I get out.”

Nathan watched her saunter away. Then, he answered the phone. 

“Hello?”  
_“Dude, you gotta turn on the news.”_

After years of absolutely no contact, it was Pickles.  _ Pickles _ of all people was calling him. God, he expected it to be a telemarketer or another deranged groupie, but this was  **_so_ ** much better. 

“Pickles, where’ve you been? It’s been a while--”

“ _ No time for talk, dude. Turn on the damn news.” _

_ Pushy!  _ Nathan thought as he flipped through the channels. He didn’t remember Pickles being so bossy. 

**_“Breaking News: World-Renowned Rhythm Guitarist, Toki Wartooth, Now Lead Guitarist In Upcoming Band; The Glitterbabies!”_ **

“Oh, wow.”

_ “I know right?” _

Nathan left what, a day ago? Maybe even less than that. It’d only been a few hours and Toki had already gone out and found himself another band. 

“I’m happy for him.”  
_“Nah, something’s not right.”_

“What do you mean?”

The other end was quiet for a moment. Nathan stared at the screen ahead of him. There was Toki, looking just like he always had, and then there were those  _ girls--  _ a Russian, a southern belle, a pothead, and a diva. Toki looked so  _ out of place  _ with them. 

“ _ It’s that band,”  _ Pickles suddenly started up again, his voice wavering over the phone,  _ “There’s like-- there’s no information on them, dude. Like, none.” _

“Huh?”

_ “They don’t have any records. No social media. No family, even.”  _ Pickles sounded frantic now, and Nathan could hear shuffling in the background. “ _ It’s like they appeared out of thin air. It’s not right, dude. Something’s not right. Toki’s in trouble.” _

Nathan quirked an eyebrow. “Think maybe you're just jealous?”

_ “I’m not jealous!”  _ Pickles snapped, “ _ Look, we need to get to the bottom of this. I have Skwisgaar with me--” _

“Ah, man, Skwisgaar is there? Let me talk to him--”

“ _ Nathan! Pay attention!”  _

Nathan could practically see Pickles pinching the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowed. He almost laughed. 

“I’m paying attention.”  
“ _Good. We’re flying over tonight. We’re gonna stay with you. Get your shit together before we come down, alright? Irene thinks this is just some reunion thing.”_

“Uh, okay, but before you go I--”

The line cut off before Nathan could finish. He looked at the phone in his hand, then back at the screen where Toki still stood, waving and smiling as he joined his new band. 

  
What the  _ hell  _ was he getting himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> https://wordsmith-enthusiast.tumblr.com/


End file.
